The Covenant
by Catriona
Summary: **New chapter now up** The covenant between mortals and ancient gods is in danger when Eye of Light is stolen in order to resurrect a demon god. The Covenant people who are sent to stop it find another ancient order, the Med-jai...
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **The Covenant   
**Author: **[Catriona][1]   
**Fanfom: **The Mummy   
**Pairing:**   
**Rating: **PG-13   
**Status: **Work-in-progress   
**Disclaimers: **All original characters and settings from "The Mummy" are property of Universal and Stephen Sommers. People and places you don't recognize are of my own creation.   
**Notes: **Set before "The Mummy". It's come to my attention that there's an ultimate evil by the name of Dahak in Xena Warrior Princess and Hercules tv shows; my Dahak has nothing to do with these two shows. I just heard the name somewhere and decided to use 'cause I liked it. My fanfic is now also hosted at my friend's Mummy site at [http://www.fortunecity.com/westwood/chisel/6/][2]   
  


~*~

  
  
In the beginning of time, a covenant was made between mortals and The Ancients. Its purpose: to balance Darkness and Light so that neither may not obtain lasting upper hand and that both the mortals and The Ancients may live. Since then members of The Covenant has protected the mortal world against demons and other weapons of darkness and destruction.   
  


CHAPTER 1

  
  
_**Hawkfell Island**_  
  
Shrill tingling of bells knifed through the castle and rang in the clear air of the morning all around the island.   
  
Justin Hoffman, a member of the Circle, dropped the coffee cup he'd been holding and his face paled. He didn't notice the ever largening stain of brown liquid on the table cloth as the coffee cup fell on its side spilling its contents, nor did he hear the gasps of the two other men who also were in the breakfast room as he bolted out of the room. This particular alarm had only ever been sounded in rehearsal; it meant that the Eye of Light had been stolen, and that the intruders might still be on the island.   
  
In the stone hallway he saw Evangeline Langdon and Ricardo Martinelli - both members of the Circle - already entering the library. He caught up with them just as Langdon pressed a stone on the side of the fire place; a entire section of the bookcase slowly swung aside, revealing a descending staircase. As they descended the stairs the guards were already securing the castle and the marina, and search for intruders well underway.   
  
In the vault room Hoffman and others were met with another member of the Circle, Clive Harrison, who had sounded the alarm.   
  
"The; Eye of Light is gone!" He lead them inside the vault where they spent a moment staring at the empty little wooden box which should have held the Eye. The box that was now empty. Martinelli went to it and picked it up, turning it in his hand and then looked at the shelf, as if he expected the Eye to be there among the other items and that their eyes had lied to them.   
  
"It; is not here, I looked when I had sounded the alarm," Clive Harrison said. Then he frowned, noting that there were only four of them. When this particular alarm was given, all six members of the Circle were to go to the vault room.   
  
Evangeline Langdon had noticed the same, "Where are David and Göran;?" she asked going back outside the vault. David Kyriakides and Göran; Petersson were the newest members of the Circle, both having joined them a little less than five years ago.   
  
"Has; anyone seen them since last night?" Justin Hoffman asked with a growing feeling of apprehension that only increased when no-one had. He was about to sign everyone tasks when one of the guards called from outside the vault. Two guards had been found in the marina, murdered. Langdon, Hoffman, Martinelli and Harrison shared a look. This was not good.   
  
"The; Eye has been stolen, and Mr. Petersson and Mr. Kyriakides are missing. Find them! I want every inch of this island searched!" Hoffman ordered.   
  
Three hours later the island had been searched through and through. The body of Göran; Petersson had been found in one of the outer sheds, his throat had been slit and he had been left to bleed to death. On his forhead was a sign drawn in his own blood: the mark of Nemehora, the High Priestess of demon-god DaHak. Of Kyriakides and the Eye of Light there was no sign.   
  
Standing over the body Hoffman said:   
  
"So; who do we have in Egypt?"   
  


~*~

  
  
_**Stonehenge, England**_   
_Three days later_  
  
Full moon bathed the ancient circle of stones in its silvery glow, glinting off of the small star-shaped object as the priestess raised it high above her head, her soft clear voice chanting the words of an ancient rite.   
  
Their blood red capes looking more like the color black in the dark night, the voices of the six acolytes mingled with hers as they joined in the chanting.   
  
The words fell with increasing passion from her lips as the acolytes placed the items of the binding on the stone altar that was in front of her: a single perfect white pearl, a scimitar wrapped in a piece of worn black cloth, a leather bound diary, a bouquet of dried flowers and a crumpled peace of paper.   
  
Moonlight played tantalizing patterns on the gold painted limbs and body of the priestess as a suddenly risen breeze played gently with her jet black hair and diaphanous dress and the capes of the acolytes. Chanting increasing in its tempo, the priestess laid the star-shaped object with great care beside the other items on the altar. Then her slender fingers reached for the golden dagger in its sheath, tugged beneath the leather strap wrapped around her hips. The dagger's handle was adorned with intricate artwork and precious stones; its narrow, gently curving blade thin and razor sharp as she drew it free.   
  
Holding the dagger in her right hand she outstretched her arms over the items on the altar, closing her eyes tightly in a fervent prayer as she began the final phase of the chant. Then with one fluid move the priestess slid the blade of the dagger across her left wrist, cutting it deeply. As blood swelled quickly from the cut she held her wrist downwards so that the blood dripped on all items on the alter, smearing them well and truly.   
  
One of the acolytes rushed to her when she started to sway from the blood loss; suddenly there was a low rumble of thunder and then lighting flashed across the sky, so bright it blinded all of them for a moment. Leaning to the acolyte but looking up to the sky the priestess intoned:   
  
"It; is done. The destinies of the six people who will bring the Master back into the world have began to intertwine. When the time is right they will come to us for they know not who they are and what power they yield together." The priestess smiled, and it was a chilling sight, as she continued, "Soon, my beloved will walk among us once more, and the world shall tremble before His fury. And we, we will be Gods again."   
  
Thousands of miles from each other, six persons stirred in their sleep and whispered a name... _DaHak_.   
  


   [1]: Mailto:catriona@graffiti.net
   [2]: http://www.fortunecity.com/westwood/chisel/6/



	2. Chapter 2a

See disclaimers in chapter 1.   
  


~*~

  
  


CHAPTER 2

  
  


**_Cairo, Egypt  
Six months later_**  
  


Egypt. Land of heat and sand, pyramids and pharaohs. Where past mingled with present, and legends and myths had a tendency to be far too real for comfort.  
  


Lady Cordelia Alverton Purdy wished she'd never heard of the place as she picked her way through the hotel lobby, looking for her sister Christina and frowning when she did not see her. Cordelia had arrived to Cairo three days ago, and when she had checked in to the hotel there had been a message waiting for her from Christina, saying that they would meet in the lobby at nine o'clock in the evening today. Christina was almost an hour late.   
  


Cordelia went to the front desk to inquire whether there were any messages for her; there were none. Not feeling like going up to her room yet Cordelia told the receptionist that she would be in the garden if anyone asked for her, and that any messages that might come were to be delivered to her immediately.   
  


Cordelia tightly clamped down the irritation she felt. Christina probably had a good reason to be late, she usually did those occasion she didn't show up in time. And she had promised to help her figure the dreams she's been having the past months; it was likely that whatever was the reason she was late, it had something to do with them.   
  


Just the thought of those dreams made Cordelia shiver. Why that would be, she did not know. She remembered a few bits and pieces from them, and a name, but nothing tangible. Or at least, Christina had said it was a name when she had told her about the dreams. How she knew that, Cordelia had not known, and had not ask. She did not want to know.   
  


In 1913, the Alverton family - sisters Christina and Cordelia, and their parents - had moved to Cairo for four years when their father, a doctor, had taken a position in a hospital there. Christina had been fascinated with the land, the people and their stories of times long ago and pharaohs long dead, of myths and legends of magic and riches beyond imagination.   
  


Not so Cordelia: all she had wanted was to return to London, back to civilization and her friends and life there. Unlike Christina, she had always shied away from even the faintest suggestion of mystery and adventure - which always seemed to find the Alverton family, thanks to their parent's never-ending quest to see and learn of new and exiting places. Never had she felt the need to see beyond the myths and legends, to learn what truths might lay behind them. As far as Cordelia was concerned, such truths were best left where they belonged: in history. To her Egypt was just another undesirable place to be, filled with old ruins, oppressing heat and sand that invaded everywhere. The day she had been sent off to England to live with friends of the family - after months of begging, persuading, cajoling and threatening - had been the happiest day of her life.   
  


Since that day five years ago the sisters' lives had taken different paths from one another: Cordelia was married to a wealthy man and lived in a big sprawling house an hour's train ride from London. She enjoyed her surprise-free existence, and the security of Richard's wealth, love and steady mindset. And if, in her weakest moments, life felt a bit boring, well, that was the price she was more than willing to pay for security and constancy.   
  


Christina, on the other hand, rarely set foot on England's soil. At first she had traveled with their parents to various exotic places. She had acted as their father Rogan's assistant, and then after his death, she had continued to travel on her own or with friends, visiting Cordelia and their mother Eleanor - who had after the death of her husband decided to live in London - every now and then. The last two years though, she had mainly traveled the Mediterranean coastline of Europe, staying always a bit longer in the next place than the last, and Cordelia had found herself wondering whether Christina might find a place - or a person - to settle down.   
  


Deep in thought, Cordelia did not notice how several of the people in the lobby cast furtive glances at her; she was too used to it to take notice anymore. As a tall and big boned woman and slim to the extreme, she tended to draw glances wherever she went. She had chestnut brown hair, clear brown eyes and strong facial features that hinted at stubbornness. Her creamy complexion testified to the fact that she carefully protected herself against the reaching rays of the sun. She was smartly dressed in an ivory colored tailored summer dress of latest fashion, complemented with a pure white blouse, fine leather boots and a matching purse. Wide brimmed straw hat covered her hair and shaded her eyes and face from the sun. She exuded an air untouchability and calm that was as noticeable as her height... but if one looked closely enough, one could detect a hint of distress in the clear brown eyes.  
  


When the dreams had started nearly six months ago, Cordelia had felt in her bones that they were somehow connected to Egypt, even though try as she might she could only remember the word dahak from them. At first the dreams had been few and far between, often even weeks passed by without them, and Cordelia had been able to ignore them, believing they would stop in due time. They had not.   
  


Cordelia had not told anyone about the dreams. Only Richard, her husband, knew of them but because they slept in separate bedrooms even he thought they had stopped a long time ago. She couldn't bring herself to talk about them to anyone. Not until Christina's last visit three weeks ago.  
  


Cordelia had awakened to her own scream and Christina, having heard the scream, had rushed in, armed with a pistol. There had been a fierce look in her eyes that had scared her almost more than the nightmare. She had been relieved when that look had faded when the other woman learned it had been only a nightmare that had made her scream. Then Christina had persuaded Cordelia to tell her about the dream, and spurred on by a glass of hot chocolate shot with a touch of brandy, Cordelia had, telling everything she could remember about the dreams. When she finally had quieted, Christina had been quiet for a long while, and when she had finally spoken it was to say that DaHak wasn't a word, it was a name. She had also promised that she would do her best to find out why Cordelia should be having these dreams.  
  


The next morning a telegram had arrived for Christina, and she had departed for London immediately, ignoring the questions Cordelia had asked about the telegram and about her promise last night, and about what she thought those dreams were. She had been gone for two days. Upon her return she had said that she had to go to Cairo and that she could not explain why, but Cordelia's best chance to find out about the dreams would be to come with her. Reluctantly she had agreed, but because there were things she had to take care of first, Christina had went ahead, after extracting a promise from Cordelia to follow as soon as possible.   
  


And that was how she found herself back on Egypt's soil. And somehow, to her dismay, it felt as if she never had left. The cacophony of voices - she had heard at least four different being languages spoken almost shouted in the bazaar she had been to yesterday, the spicy smells of humans, animals and foodstuffs all mixed together, even the heat that made her clothes stick to her skin, were all familiar.  
  


The thought made her shudder.  
  


The sooner Christina got here, the sooner they could figure what was going on - if anything - and she, Cordelia, could get out of here, back to where she belonged. *Christina, wherever you are, please, hurry!*, she thought as she settled into a chair in the hotel's garden.   
  


~*~  
  


**_An alleyway in Cairo_**  
  


Christina whipped around ducking under the demons arm and smashed her fist in the unprotected spot on the side of its skull, just above the ear. The effect was immediate: the demon stopped and teetered on its feet, howling in pain and rage as it raised claw-like hands to cradle its head. Then it crashed down to the ground where it lay twitching, unable to control the spasming of its limbs or body. This k'tginka demon was harmless for the moment, but because she hadn't hit it with enough force to kill it she would have to finish it off another way.  
  


Ten feet down the alley scimitars were loudly and repeatedly clashing as her colleague Douglas Mosely battled another k'tginka demon. The demon was loosing the fight. Christina kept an eye on them as well as the demon she had taken out as she went to retrieve her own scimitar from where it had landed when she had thrown it to kill another k'tginka demon. As she bent to pick it up came the feeling of being watched.  
  


Swirling around ready to fight Christina studied the alleyway, taking in everything: the now silent k'tginka lying on the ground, the man and the demon trying to kill one another, the dark windows of the houses on both sides of the alley, and the closed door on the left. Staring intently in the shadows under the balcony of the two-story house on the right and then to one end of the alley, and then to the other, she tried to spy a shape darker than the darkness around it, anything shifting in the shadows that would caught eye. She stood still and waited.   
  


Nothing.  
  


Still, it was only a matter of time before someone would hear the sounds of battle and came to investigate. It would be preferable to finish the demons and vacate the alley before that happened. No witnesses, no innocent bystanders knowing what they were better off not knowing. Not many people could handle the knowledge of existence of beings such as demons. 

The demon Douglas was fighting now was clearly a young one, probably not even a year old yet, and it was already getting tired. Douglas was more than a match for it in both skill and stamina even having fought and sent back to Other Side an older k'tginka before the one he was fighting now. The k'tginka demons were easier to kill the younger they were, and the four that had attacked them tonight had been the youngest Christina had ever met. They hadn't even had the sense to wear helmets to protect their vulnerable skulls, and fighting them hadn't been particularly taxing on her - it just took some time.  
  


Standing back Christina watched the demon and Douglas fight for a moment. It was nearing its end now, the enthusiasm with which the demon had fought at first all but disappeared. She thought she could see in its face the beginning of realization that it would not survive the night.   
  


Christina flexed the fingers of her right hand as if she could shake away the memory of feeling tissue and bone give under her fist as it made contact with the demon's skull. There were things she still hadn't gotten used to regardless how many demons she had fought over the years, and the feeling of nausea when she was forced to feel how tissue and bone turning to mush when she hit a k'tginka demon in its vulnerable head spot was one of them. That was just as well, she thought, as she walked back to where the demon she had taken down lay. It was one of the things that separated her from the creatures of Darkness.  
  


The inhumanly glowing green eyes of the k'tginka focused on her as Christina stopped beside it. She could see that the healing process had already begun but the creature was still helpless. If given enough time, it would heal completely.   
  


Hatred and loathing for all things human burned in it's inhumanly bright green eyes as it looked up at her. She raised the scimitar to deliver the blow that would send it back to Other Side. The demon hissed in rage. Then suddenly, its eyes unfocused and it tilted its head to one side as if listening to a voice only it could hear. Then the inhuman eyes focused back on her again, and it rasped in difficult Arabic, "I have a message for you... Christina...". The creature made her name sound like a slow, dark caress, and against her better judgement Christina froze, meeting the demon's eerily glowing eyes.  
  


"How; do you know my name?" She asked in the same language. The demon smiled a cold smile.  
  


"Your; lineage is well known to us, slayer. After all you and yours have done, it should be..." the words rolled with difficulty off its tongue; it was not used to speaking in a human language.  
  


Rational part of her said to destroy the demon now. Known for the hatred of all things inhabiting this plane the k'tginka demons took every opportunity to disrupt it in any which way they could, no matter how small... hence anything this one had to say to her was to be regarded with suspicion. But, morbidly curious to hear what more it would say she waited for it to continue. Besides, maybe it would let slip something that would give them more clues to the location of the Eye of Light and Kyriakides who had stolen it.   
  


"Your; dear sister will make up for all that when she fulfills her destiny... oh yes, I forgot... You don't know do you. Don't worry, you'll find out soon enough. The priestess Nemehora thanks you for bringing her here."  
  


Christina's head had snapped up on the mention of her sister.  
  


"What; do you know of my sister, demon?"  
  


The demon made a sound that could have been a chuckle.  
  


"She; will follow the Eye, slayer."  
  


"The; Eye? You mean the Eye of Light? What's my sister got do with the Eye of Light?"  
  


"You;'ll find out soon, and then she'll be one of us, Christina..." The green eyes bore into her own.  
  


Christina prepared to deliver the final blow.  
  


"My; sister will never be one of you, demon."  
  


The demon laughed in answer. But it stopped abruptly as Christina swung the scimitar and cut off the demon's head in one smooth move. The body and head turned to dust as the demon's spirit returned to Other Side.   
  


A muffled sound made Christina turn around quickly towards the closer end of the alleyway. There was a Arab boy of about twelve years of age standing there, almost hidden in the shadows under the balcony. His eyes flicked back and forth between Christina, Douglas and the demon he was fighting. Then those bright black eyes suddenly stopped on Christina as he saw that she had noticed him. In a swirl of his black robes he turned and was gone.  
  


It must have been him she had sensed earlier.  
  


Christina turned to where Douglas and the k'tginka were still fighting, intending to help him finish it off. Instead she was just in time to see him neatly cut off the demon's head. Winded, Douglas looked around him and then at her:  
  


"That;'s it? You got the others?"  
  


"Yes.;" Christina surveyed the alley for telltale signs of the demons or the fight. There were none; the k'tginka demons didn't bleed and neither she nor Douglas had been cut. "But we were seen. By a young Arab boy." Apart from a layer of fine dust - that no-one would pay attention to unless they knew to look for it - on the ground and on their clothes there was no sign of such creatures ever having being there. That left only the boy to worry about. "What if he goes to the authorities? We don't exactly have a say over them. No yet anyway."   
  


"Hoffman;'s working on it. Besides, who'd believe the boy? I mean, demons!" Douglas shrugged, "They'll think he made it up." 

"They; don't have to believe him. All they have to do is ask a few questions from a few right people and they'll get a lot more clearer picture than what's good for them. And our job gets that much more difficult." Christina pointed out. "We should've established a presence here a long time ago."  
  


The reason that there was no established Covenant presence in Egypt was simply that there had been no need for it. The habitants of the Other Side appeared to actively avoid this particular corner of the world. There were theories, stories and legends as to why, but no-one seemed to know for certain, or if they did, they weren't talking.  
  


"It; hasn't been necessary until now." Douglas frowned as they both put their scimitars away in their belts and dusted their clothes. According to the Covenant researchers, the sudden appearance of demon activity during the last three months meant that the second phase of resurrecting the demon-god DaHak, if that indeed was what Kyriakides intended, had begun. They had also said that because of the dreams somehow, Christina's sister was part of it.  
  


"Yeah;, I know. But still, it should have been done six months ago when the Eye was stolen. They must've known it would lead us back here, even if Kyriakides had us chase him around the Mediterranean after that first sighting here. DaHak's temple was in here in the ancient times." Christina pulled the cloak she wore upon her clothes more securely around herself to cover the various weapons she carried. Douglas did the same as they exited the alley heading towards the hotel where her sister Cordelia would be waiting. 

"We; _think_ it was, we don't know for sure. What were you chatting with the demon about?"  
  


A raspy demon laughter echoed in Christina's ears: _She will be one of us..._  
  


Suddenly she was anxious to see to Cordelia, to know that she was alright. She quickened her pace.  
  


"Come; on, I'll tell you on the way."  
  
  
  



	3. Chapter 2b

  
See disclaimers in chapter 1.   
  


~*~

  
  
**_In the desert outside Cairo_**   
  
Strong arms caught the priestess as she swayed, lowering her gently to sit on the floor of the tent. There was rustling of clothing and then a warm cloak was spread over her shoulders. Naked but for the body paint and beginning to feel the chill of the night time desert now that she wasn't in a trance anymore, she drew it around her and accepted the mug of hot coffee offered her. Warming her cold fingers by pressing them against the mug the priestess waited for her breathing to slow down and her head to stop pounding. She could feel the tension emanating from the man who sat next to her, his daily escalating impatience held in check by his will; that same will keeping him from pacing the tent up and down, or raining her with questions she didn't have answers to. It was that very will that had enabled him to survive a nightmarish childhood and brought him out the streets of Athens, gotten him educated and made him someone to reckon with. Sometimes his will power seemed limitless.   
  
That very will was the thing that had first attracted DaHak's attention . What had sealed his fate, however, had been the second thing DaHak had seen. Fear. Fear of returning back to who he had been - a child growing up on the demon infested streets of Athens, Fear of losing control, of himself and his circumstances... a fear buried so deep that he most likely wasn't aware it of even now, or if he were, would vehemently deny it if anyone asked. It had been the fear that had allowed the priestess seduce him to the dark side, to serve DaHak, but it was his will that kept him loyal to the Master.   
  
And because they served DaHak, they were now sitting here in the middle of the desert and her head felt like it would explode. She had tried to cut the connection to the k'tginka before it died but hadn't been fast enough, strong enough. It had nearly taken her with it to the Other Side. It was the price she paid for being far away from a Holy Ground: her powers were only a fraction of what she was used to, making the simplest task a strain. But at least she'd learned something through the k'tginka.   
  
"It is not the slayer who is soul-protecting the sixth one... It is someone else."   
  
David Kyriakides jumped up and stormed out of the tent, letting loose a violent stream of obscenities in his native tongue. The priestess smirked; so his will did have limits. Then she got up and followed him outside. The six acolytes were sitting or standing around or near the camp fire, dressed in their regular clothes as they had not been needed for tonight's session. She repeated to them what she had said to Kyriakides. In the darkness outside the camp they could hear a string of Greek expletives grind to a halt and a few moments later Kyriakides walked back in, in control of himself again. He voiced the questions that were uppermost in their minds:   
  
"So it's not the slayer sister, or anyone else from the Covenant, it's not the husband, or anyone else she has come into contact with during the last six months - and we've been through everyone, even the bloody milkman she's never spoken to. So who the hell is it?! Who is protecting Cordelia Alverton Purdy?!"   
  
"Well, basically it could be anyone she has ever come into contact with. That person might be protecting her and not even be aware of it... but he, or she, must be aware that we exist... must know that there is a world beyond their own."   
  
When they had acquired the Eye of Light six months ago, and subsequently performed the rite that began the process of returning their Master into this world, none of them had dreamed that one of the six was soul-protected. That had thrown their time table; the other five chosen ones had come to them a long time ago and were at the place of Rebirth even now, but Cordelia Alverton Purdy had somehow managed to resist the binding. Indeed, upon going to England to investigate, it seemed at first that she didn't even see the dreams... Then they had discovered that she was soul-protected, and that together with her dislike of Egypt had enabled her to resist their efforts.   
  
It enraged the priestess to know that now that the sixth one was finally here, it wasn't because of their efforts, but because of the meddling sister. But it didn't matter. The sixth one was here, and their next problem was to figure out a way to get her to the place of Rebirth, preferably killing the sister and the Covenant people in the process... but not getting themselves killed or exposed - they were outnumbered and too vulnerable, her powers being too weak here, this far from a Holy Ground. That meant the direct approach - simply kidnapping her - was out of question at the moment.   
  
The priestess tuned back in time to hear Kyriakides go on:   
  
"Oh great, what with the Med-jai and the legends of this bloody country, that makes it only what, half of the population that we need to worry about! How are we supposed to find that someone? You're not exactly on your strongest in this blasted country." Kyriakides' tirade rippled through her, only one word remaining with her.   
  
The Med-jai. The guardians of Hamunaptra, City Of The Dead. Many people had forfeited their lives in search of that place; purred on by stories of treasures beyond measure. But what interested the priestess was that, according to Covenant knowledge as handed down through generations, the site where Hamunaptra had been built had been a place of worship for the Ancients back when the Covenant was till new, making it one of the rare Holy Grounds in Egypt... and that meant her powers would work there.   
  
So, if grabbing the chosen one in Cairo was out of the question... then get them out to the desert, to a certain fabled city, guarded by equally fabled but very real and, if the stories and legends were true, deadly warriors. Between the Med-jai and herself, the slayer and her friends would not have a chance. They would have to be careful of course, and grab the chosen one not too early, or too late. The timing would have to be just right, but it could work.   
  
Oh yes, it would work...   
  


~*~

  
  
The clock was five minutes to ten by the time Christina and Douglas finally entered the hotel's lobby. It had taken them fifteen minutes to walk there from the alley, and Christina had spent every minute regretting that they hadn't taken a car. Because the hotel was only an half an hours walk from the Covenant safe house, and because she and Douglas had just spent the better part of the day cramped up in a crowded train neither of them had even thought of driving over, too eager for a brisk walk in open air. So now they were almost an hour late from the meeting, and although being attacked by demons was as good a reason as any and better than most, it wasn't one she could tell Cordelia.   
  
Christina stopped for a moment to let her eyes sweep the lobby, hoping to spot Cordelia as well as taking in and memorizing the faces and the places; the sweeping stairway leading upstairs and the doorways to the restaurant, the garden and other parts of the hotel, the type and placement of the furniture. She took note of a group of four Europeans, two men and two women in their thirties and forties, chatting and laughing while - from snippets of their talk she heard - waiting for their carriage to arrive. There was another European man, more or less inebriated, who was being scolded by a woman on their way upstairs.   
  
She took note of hiding places, possible and probable routes and hide-outs that an attacker might use, or that would aid escaping if necessary. She knew that beside her Douglas was doing the same; it was part of who they were and what they did. You never knew where the next attack would come from. Be prepared was a motto of anyone who served the Covenant.   
  
Too bad the Circle had not been prepared, she thought. If they had been, the Eye would not have been stolen and they would not be in this mess right now, and Cordelia would be safe in her home in England where she belonged. But crying over spilled milk didn't do any good, and she resolutely pushed these thoughts from her mind. What is, is, and she had to deal with reality.   
  
Not seeing Cordelia she briskly strode through the lobby to the front desk with Douglas in tow. Younger of the two Egyptian receptionists greeted them in fluent English which bore nearly no trace of an accent as he spoke:   
  
"Good evening, Madame, Sir. How may I help you?"   
  
"We're here to meet Lady Purdy, but I don't see her here... Do you know where she is?"   
  
"Ah yes, Lady Purdy said to tell you that she is in the garden, Madame."   
  
"Very well. Thank you."   
  
Christina saw her sister immediately upon reaching the garden doors, her protective instinct homing in on Cordelia with unerring accuracy. Her sister was sitting in a chair lost deep in her thoughts, not noticing the lush garden around her or paying attention to other people in there. Christina and Douglas stopped beside her.   
  
"Cordelia?"   
  
Cordelia looked up, startled, then a relieved smile spread on her face when she saw who it was. She jumped up and hugged her sister tightly.   
  
"Christina! You're here!"   
  
Unbidden, the words the demon had spoken not long ago, came back to Christina.   
  
_She'll be one of us..._   
  
What had the demon meant by that? What exactly was needed to resurrect DaHak, a demon-god, and how exactly did her sister figure in it? Hugging Cordelia fiercely back, Christina swore silently that nothing would happen to her sister. She wouldn't allow it.   
  



	4. Chapter 3

See disclaimers in chapter 1.   
  


~*~   
  
CHAPTER 3   
  
  
**__**

The Med-jai City, somewhere in the Sahara Desert   
That night   
  
_ He is dreaming.   
  
It was not the usual dream, this time. Not the one where he floated in the pitch black nothingness, holding on to someone, or something, that he could not see. Not the one where he knew that if he let go of that someone, or something, there would only ever be this nothingness, and that all that he knew, all he loved, would be lost forever.   
  
In this dream he is standing alone in Hamunaptra, among fallen pillars and half-crumbled walls. The heat of the sun beats mercilessly down on him, its midday glare unnaturally bright, making the colors appear washed out and unreal. Looking around, he sees that he is alone. The dream sifts; the sun gives way to night and the cold twinkling of stars; he is on his faithful mount, he and his fellow Med-jai warriors raining death upon the foolish fortune seekers. Full moon bathes the ruins in its silvery light and the sounds of death fill the air... Again the dream sifts. Now he is on the ground, fighting, wielding his scimitar with leathal skill. His opponent falls down, dead. He turns to face the next one and is surprised to see a woman in diaphanous dress with jet black hair, her gold painted limbs adorned with fine jewellery.   
  
Her malicious gray eyes capture him and he is unable to move as in a soft sing-song voice she says something to him in a language that he does not know. Sounds of fighting, hiss of flames as the tents burn, screams and groans still fill the air but it is as if they come from far away as the woman holds him enthralled. Her hand comes up, touches him on the chest over his heart, and terrible pain seizes him. Unable to stand, he falls to his knees and the woman follows, dropping on her knees in front of him. Around them, in the fight that is going on between his people and the intruders, something changes. Even through the pain he can hear it, he can sense it, even if he cannot see it.   
  
The pain suddenly disappears and then she pulls her hand back; there is something hovering above her palm. A softly glowing sphere of light, pulsating with life. Thin strands of light appear and stretch out into the darkness, he tries to see where they go, but still cannot move. The woman smiles at him, and says something again, and again he cannot understand. Then she begins to chant, and the thin strands stretching out into darkness begin to flactuate, growing alternately brighter and dimmer... then something slams into the woman, and she sprawles to the ground in an undignified heap. The sphere of light starts to flicker.   
  
An ancient power whispers to him in his sleep: DaHak is coming. Protect the chosen one. _   
  
  


~*~   
  


**_ Covenant safe house, Cairo   
Next morning_**   
  
Christina, Justin Hoffman, Evangeline Langdon and Albert Batali, a Covenant scribe, were gathered in the second floor library, speaking in low tones so that Lady Cordelia Purdy - who was standing across the large room in front of a window - wouldn't hear them.   
  
"Are you sure? That boy got a good clear look last at myself and Mosely as well as the demons last night, there's no way he could've mistaken them for humans... there was enough light on the alley." Christina said, looking at Justin Hoffman. He had just told them that there had been no "incidents" reported to the authorities last night. Apparently the boy hadn't told anyone, or if he had, he hadn't been believed.   
  
"I am sure. My contact would have heard of it... if he hears anything interesting, we will be first to know. How is your sister doing?"   
  
"Surprisingly well... she had another dream last night, but as usual can't remember much of it. She did say something about nothingness... I got her to agree to be hypnotised, we should learn more that way." Christina glanced at her sister who was standing by a window, looking as the sun rose in the morning sky.   
  
"Good, good... Evangeline, will you do it? You are better at it than I." Hoffman looked at Evangeline Langdon, a fellow Circle member for confirmation. The woman noded:   
  
"I'm ready. But first, what of your inquiries about the Med-jai? Any results?"   
  
"Apparently they still exist - not that I ever doubted it: if they did not we would have been necessary here before now. Last week I put out a word that we seek a meeting with them, so far nothing." Hoffman said. He had hoped to contact the Med-jai, the legendary guardians of Hamunaptra, The City Of The Dead, and other magical places of Egypt, in hopes of opening a dialogue with them about Kyriakides and this whole DaHak thing. The last recorded contact between The Covenant and the Med-jai had been nearly seven centuries ago when the two secret societies had combined forces to track down and destroy a conclave of ghosts that had terrorized both Egypt and France. Hoffman continued:   
  
"I am also bringing in more of our people; if Kyriakides succeeds in his efforts to resurrect DaHak and his minions we are going to need them. I dispatched the message last night, the first should start to come in day after tomorrow."   
  
"Where are we at locating the place of Rebirth?" Christina asked. Hoffman sighed, shaking his head.   
  
"We are going through Holy Grounds here in Egypt, the good news is that there are only about a dozen of them."   
  
"And the bad news?" Christina prompted.   
  
"We have lost the four or five exact locations over the centuries and are trying to pinpoint them from the old texts. Frankly, I am hoping your sister has seen the Rebirth place in her dreams and can help us by eliminating possibilities."   
  
  


~*~   
  
  


Cordelia was looking out of the window, watching as the fiery red ball of the sun rose over the horizon, painting a breathtaking caleidoscope of colors across the sky and the rooftops of Cairo. If she stood on her toes and looked just at the right angle, she could see glimpses of the desert between the buildings, whispering to some unwanted and long buried part deep inside her. A calling she would not, could not, absolutely refused to, acknowledge. And yet, in her bones, she felt that the desert was where she would end up going.   
  
The thought caused the small hairs on the back of her neck to stand on end and she shivered. Unconsciously touching the good luck charm she always wore around her neck beneath clothing, she felt reassuared by its familiar shape and weight. Turning her back to the window and the magnificent sunrise, Cordelia watched Christina converse quietly with another woman and two men. Apart from Christina glancing at her every now and then, as if to make sure she was alright, they didn't pay attention to her. Cordelia was grateful for that; she needed a little more time to prepare for what she had agreed to: to let herself be hypnotised.   
  
Cordelia still couldn't believe that she had actually agreed to it. Last night, when Christina had first brought it up she had said no. But then, when she had awaken from another dream screaming, and still couldn't remember details of what had happened in it, she had finally agreed. Anything had to be better than this, and if hypnotising would help her, then that was what she would try.   
  
Last night, after introducing the man Christina had come with as Douglas Mosely, a friend and a colleague, it had been decided that Christina would stay with Cordelia in the hotel that night, and in the morning Cordelia would move to the safe house Christina and Mr Mosely were staying at. And so, after having breakfast at the crack of dawn and then the drive over here, she had learned that the safe house was actually a grand two story manor situated on the outskirts of the city, complete with stables and a lush garden. It was protected from outside world with high walls and a wrought iron gate where a guard challenged those who sought entrance. Wooden moving boxes and chests sitting in the hallways and empty rooms as well as the scarseness of furniture testified to the fact that the occupants of the manor were still in the process of moving in. According to Christina, most of them had yet to arrive in the country.   
  
This large second floor library where they were now, however, was fully furnished: a big oak conference table topped with books and papers stood in the middle of the room, a comfortable looking couch and four chairs with a smaller table between them on one wall and the cealing high bookcases on the other three walls were filled with books and manuscripts of various size and bindings, written in numerous different languages, some of which she couldn't even begin to regognize. Hundreds of books, catalogued by topic; some of them seemed positively ancient to her unpractised eye while others were clearly more of a contemporary nature. She had also noticed while walking the rows a while ago, that many of the books looked like they should be old - lettering, the language used, the overall look of them - but even she could see that they were anything but old, and that while they all were more or less used, they were in good condition.   
  
Ever since she had realised what topics held the greatest number of volumes - astrology, religion, demonology, alchemy, geology, mathemathics, mystisism and paranormal - Cordelia had been wondering just what had she gotten into. Who were these people, what was The Covenant, and why was Christina involved with them? And how did all of this concern her dreams? To her surprise, she didn't wonder about the sanity of these people, or that of her sister for getting involved with them; it was as if a part of her knew that they weren't insane.   
  
Cordelia studied her sister across the room. Christina was only an inch or two shorter than she was, and had curly chestnut brown hair as she did, but Christina let her hair retain its natural curliness and put it in a simple braid that hung down her back while Cordelia preferred to straighten hers and put it up in a neat do. Her clear brown eyes were a few shades darker than Cordelia's, but the merry twinkle in them that Cordelia remembered from their childhood was nowhere to be found - she coudln't remember when was the last time she had seen it. When had Christina changed? She was so serious, unlike in their childhood. Cordelia couldn't believe she hadn't noticed it before. But then, they hadn't spent much time together during the past several years; Christina's visits were always short, lasting only a few days, a week at the most, and she very rarely spoke of herself and her life, answering any questions about her chosen lifestyle with a funny story and laugh, and steered the discussion to other topics. Cordelia was just beginning to realize how little she actually knew about Christina and the life she led.   
  
Christina was still wearing the same outfit that she had had on last night: black trousers, well worn black lether boots, a wide lether belt and a black tunika that reached to the top of her thighs. At some point between now and their arrival here she had shed the black cloak and numerous weapons that had been revealed to be under it last night when she had taken it off in Cordelia's suite in the hotel. She wasn't as slim as Cordelia, instead her body was trim and strong with clearly defined but unobtrusive sleek muscles, results of years of training and fighting as she had told Cordelia last night. Christina had said that physical strenght and weapons were necessary in her work. When she had asked what was Christina's job, the answer had been "I serve The Covenant", whatever that meant. She hadn't elaborated on what was "The Covenant", had just said that for the moment Cordelia knew all she needed to know.   
  
Presently, Christina came to Cordelia. The others gathered in front of the big conference table, spreading open and studying something that looked like a map, leaving the sisters to each others company.   
  
"Are you alright?" Christina asked, worried. She had seen the other woman shiver earlier, before she had turned away from the window.   
  
"No," Cordelia shook her head, her eyes holding those of her sister's. Then she turned once more to look out of the window; the golden sun was now well over the horizon. The fingers of her left hand touched again the charm around her neck. "I won't be, not until these dreams stop," she paused, then continued, voice low so that the others wouldn't hear: "Are you sure these people are, well, not crazy?" she indicated the books on the shelves.   
  
"They aren't crazy, at least not more than most people. They can help you... they have experience in this sort of thing."   
  
"'In decyphering strange dreams?" Cordelia asked sarcastically, but on the inside she was alarmed. If these people regularly dealt with the sort of dreams she'd been having, and these dreams somehow connected to reality, as these people seemed to think - and more importantly, Christina seemed to think so - then didn't that mean that the things she remembered from her dreams might already be, or become, reality... that was something she didn't want to contemplate; it would change the world from what she knew - or thought - it to be.   
  
"Among other things." Christina hesitated, unsure of how much she should say. "There are certain... things ...happening, and we believe your dreams might be part of them... that's why it's so important that you do this. If anyone can figure the dreams out, it's them."   
  
There had been something strange in Christina's voice and expression when she said 'things', and Cordelia knew she didn't really want to know... but against her better judgement, she heard herself ask: "Things? What sort of things?"   
  
...and then she nearly audibly sighed with relief when Justin Hoffman walked to them, preventing Christina from answering the question. He said:   
  
"If you are ready, Lady Purdy, we should begin..."   
  
  


~*~   
  


To be continued.   
  



End file.
